


Saviour’s Lament

by monsterhugger



Series: Atop London, At The End Of All Things [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuser POV, Bad Ending, Character Study, Dehumanising language, M/M, Non-Consensual Romantic Relationship, Off-Screen Major Character Death, POV Elias Bouchard, Use of Second Person, Villain PoV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterhugger/pseuds/monsterhugger
Summary: Statement of Elias Bouchard, on living in the Panopticon with Jonathan Sims at long last.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Atop London, At The End Of All Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033275
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Saviour’s Lament

My dear Archivist. My perfect, beautiful Archivist.

When I imagined spending eternity with you, I can’t say this is what I had in mind, but I also can’t say I’m disappointed. To rule over a ruined world with you at my side-or at my feet as you seem to prefer-it was a lofty fantasy, but I am glad you’ve been so helpful in fulfilling it.

You can sit, you know. You can stand, you can move about, you can even come to bed with me. I’m not cruel. I would never be so cruel to you, love. You tear at your chains as if I’m restricting you, as if I’m holding you hostage. You must understand, Jon, I don’t think you’re some snarling Rottweiler I have to keep chained up for everyone’s safety. If anything, you’re a beautiful show dog, and the leash is only there to prevent someone from stealing you away.

I would never let that happen. You’re mine. You always will be.

I hear you at night, laying on the floor in your stubborn refusal to lie at my side, sobbing for your Martin. I wish you’d stop. It hurts me, truly, to see you mourn for him. You’re not meant for him. I think you know that, dear. I only wish you’d admit that to yourself. And that you’d stop crying all night over him.

I’m not sorry for what I did to him. I know you’d like me to apologize, but you must understand it was necessary. He meant to keep you from me, from the Eye, keep you frail and sick in a little cottage somewhere until you died for need of your true protector. I couldn’t let you do that to yourself. I couldn’t bear sitting watch as you wasted away, unable to take in the knowledge that sustains you. It would be an awful sight, watching you die such a slow and miserable death.

But you’re safe now. Safe from him, safe with the Eye and all you need to survive. Safe with me.

I understand that you won’t let me touch you. I’d like to, of course, I’d like to run my hand down your chest and watch each cluster of eyes there flicker open and closed. I’d like to feel every scar, every newly formed eyelid, the sinking spot just above your waist where your ribs used to be. But you won’t let me.

I understand, but it still hurts me.

When I tried at first, I thought you just needed some time to adjust. The death of your Martin was necessary, but quite gruesome, and to faint after witnessing that only to awake in chains must have been quite a shock. I put a hand on your shoulder, tried to turn you towards me, and you lashed out. You hit me, and though you were weak and half-asleep and the blow itself was soft enough to not leave so much as a bruise I still felt awful. To think the one I loved, the one I rescued and brought home safe, would thank me with such an act, I felt betrayed.

You are quite ungrateful, Jon. Maybe someone else would have no issue setting you out into the street if their hospitality was met with grumbles, shouts, and physical attacks. But I’m different. I care for you too deeply to give up that easily. I will keep you safe, Jon, no matter how you abuse me. Because I need you. The eye is fond of you, yes, but I need you in a way that only something bordering on human ever could.

Do you still remember what that’s like? To be human? Do you still feel human, curled up on the floor with a hundred eyes blinking out from every part of you? Do you still mourn for your humanity, as you do your Martin?

Do you only ever want things you can never have again?

I want to make you happy, Jon. I want you to feel as safe and cared for and loved as you are here, with me and with the Eye watching over us. I want you to know, to let yourself accept just how good you have it here. I want to see you smile. I want to see every single one of your eyes light up as you look at me.

Maybe, just once, I want you to thank me for saving you.


End file.
